


In the Endgame

by PrinceBirb08



Series: Chill Out AU [2]
Category: Just Shapes & Beats (Video Game)
Genre: Chill Out AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:55:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22810597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceBirb08/pseuds/PrinceBirb08
Summary: Fresh retains some... quirks from the Incident. Problems ensue. (Oneshot).
Series: Chill Out AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1639861
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	In the Endgame

**Author's Note:**

> Another very old fic taking place early on in the Chill Out AU. Please try to tolerate the old writing style...

Blue found him hiding in his old cave one night, curled up behind some rocks. Deep down, they assure themselves that the unfortunate events leading up to this must’ve been pure coincidence, or even just bad luck.

He’s been living with them for the past three months, ever since the… incident occured. The incident in which the Treeangle was destroyed.

Nobody but Blue themselves trusts Fresh anymore. The cube supposes that it makes sense, to feel apprehension, anger, or even downright fear around the pink shape, what with his actions from the Incident.

He’d caused outright chaos. He’d ruined everything for a selfish reason. Blue themselves can’t help but feel a bit of lasting anger, even with their passive nature.

He’d harmed their friends and their home, after all. Blue themselves still carries remnants of their unfortunate corruption, a fact that haunts them to this day.

But they’ve taken it upon themselves to help him. He insists on staying inside most of the time, working on his tunes, so he’s not much of a bother. The music buffs at Fresh’s DJ gig only tolerate him as long as he’s creating. It’s terrible, but he seems happy with his work, and Blue figures that that’s all that matters.

So when they came home to a strangely empty house, they were understandably spooked. The door creaked open, unlocked, as the blue cube peeked in. The lights were all out.

“Fresh?” they called.

There was no reply aside from the faint echo of their own voice.

They’d just returned from a lovely picnic with Cyan, which Fresh would’ve normally broken his exile to join. Food seems to be the only thing that gets through to him, at least on his bad days.

Today, however, he’d seemed even more reserved than usual.

Blue calls again, loudly, “Fresh? Are you awake?”

They step inside, slow, cautious. Hands outstretched, they feel around in the dark, careful not to step on anything that may be on the floor. Fresh is tall, clumsy even. He often knocks things down and forgets to pick them up.

Today, though, the floor is clean and empty.

Blue makes it to the wall, feeling around for the light switch. The old bulbs flicker weakly, casting the small adobe in a cool, bluish light. A twinge of worry stings Blue’s heart as they notice the broken shards of a lightbulb messily dusted into the corner.

Some of the shards are caked in a faintly luminescent, pink liquid. Fresh must’ve cut himself trying to pick them up. The pinkish blood looks fairly recent. He must’ve just left…

“Oh, Fresh,” Blue sighs, frowning. “What did you do..?”

They look towards the door leading to the guest room. They make their way towards the door, hesitant. When Fresh wants space, he gets it. It’s an unspoken rule, a silent agreement that the pair had made the first day Fresh had come to stay.

It would be terrible to break that trust, but Blue feels obligated to at least make sure he’s okay. They knock softly, almost afraid to breathe for fear of him lashing out.

At the mere touch, the door swings open. The nervous cube feels a sting of anxiety as they step inside, seeing the broken hinges of the door. Something pink shimmers in the corner of their eyes, and they turn, breath catching.

The room is empty, save for the bed itself and an overturned dresser. Fresh’s music equipment is missing, and the few belongings that remain are tattered, broken, or otherwise ruined.

Blue had to cup their hands to their mouth to stop from gasping. Their eyes darted around wildly as they took in the atrocities before them, terrified.

It seemed that most, if not all of Fresh’s precious belongings had been ravaged by… nothing short of a monster.

In the center of it all was a shining, horribly familiar object. Kneeling, Blue reached for the tiny, triangular shard.

Their hands shook as they brought the piece up to eye level to inspect it. They knew from first glance what it was, but the small hope they’d had forced them to get a better look, if only to prevent another misunderstanding.

Much to the cube’s horror, the shard was none other than a leaf from the illustrious Treeangle, the very monument which Fresh had once uprooted, whose power he’d abused.

It sparkled violently in their grasp, casting an odd light, which swam with equal parts blue and pink energy.

Blue stood slowly, clutching the small, altered triangle with a vice grip. Their form shook with subdued anger, and when they looked down, their hands had become literal clamps, pulsing with pink energy. The triangle pieces above their head tilted downward, glowing in response to the sudden onset of corrupted power.

They sighed, stepping back from the room. They closed the door gingerly, attempting to control their breathing.

They ran through their thoughts, focusing on their emotions. They couldn’t do anything to help Fresh when they were this… angry.

The Treeangle shards atop their head pulsed lightly, attempting to synchronize with their energy again. They fixated on that sensation, motionless.

After a moment, there was a series of clinking sounds as the vibrantly colored clamps at the ends of their arms shifted back into their pale blue hands. The cube stuffed their hands into their pockets, feeling burning tears welling up, their vision blurring.

They walked into the kitchen, only able to convince themselves to keep searching for the sake of answers. They tiniest hope for Fresh’s innocence keeps them going.

The step slowly out of the house, looking around. There’s only one place where Fresh could be now. Sighing heavily, they set off in the direction of the cave.

The sentient sun of Paradise has set by the time Blue arrives at the cave. It’s not too far from their home, although they’d made a point to take their time, reluctant to confront their friend. The stinging twinge of betrayal stabs at their heart, even after half an hour of walking.

They desperately want to believe that it’s all a misunderstanding, but the remnants of Fresh’s past seem to surround them, down to the smallest detail of his chosen hideout.

Exhaling softly, the blue shape approaches the foreboding entrance to the dreaded cavern, peeking in through the great cavity in the earth. They can tell, just from a glance, that the chasm is deep and winding, the shimmering flowers that sprouted from the walls doing little to illuminate the depths of the cave.

It’s a ways down, too, they realize upon hopping into the cavern. They stumble a bit, struggling to regain their bearings.

Cupping their hands around their mouth, they yell, “Fresh! Are you there?” Their call rings eerily throughout the tunnels, echoing for a long while before the sound finally subsides.

There’s a beat of silence before a shaky, snapping reply echoed back, “G-Go away!” The voice continued in a broken, muted tone, “I don’t wanna hurt ya…”

Blue’s eyes widened, and they quickened their pace, scrambling over the craggy path. The glowing blooms along the cave walls dimmed in comparison to the magenta hue which shone up ahead, a colorful glow that Blue has grown quite familiar with over the months.

The glow flickered intermittently, occasionally faltering for several seconds at a time. With each blink, the light seemed to weaken, only to suddenly intensify, starting the sequence over again, as if to the beat of a looping song.

Trekking along the worn path through the cave, Blue found themselves pausing as Fresh’s anguished voice once again rang out, desperate.

“Please, Blue. Don’t come any closer…” his voice broke entirely, and Blue felt a twinge of genuine fear as an all-too-familiar distortion made itself known in their friend’s tone. “You’re not gonna like what ya see.”

Blue resumed their pace, expression determined. They decided to keep talking, if only to track the pink shape based on the sound of his replies.

“I’m not mad, Fresh.” That was false, and it seemed that Fresh could tell. They tried to assure him. “Just… worried.”

Judging by the increasing intensity of the pink glow, they were getting close. They listened intently for a reply as they stepped around a craggy corner, steeling themselves for whatever they’d encounter.

“I’m scared, Q-Bee.” Fresh murmured, just as Blue reached his location, “Really, really scared.”

Blue froze mid-step as they saw the magenta being before them. They found themselves staggering back, despite their earlier reassurances, their hands flying up to stifle their gasp. Their eyes watered, and they found themselves unable to speak.

The shape before them stood in the farthest corner in the cavern’s end room. He seemed to be trying to hide himself, his stance almost crushed by self-doubt and fear. Blue had at least foreseen this, given the desperation in Fresh’s voice.

However, it was the details of his appearance that had them shaken up. He was in New Game form, looking a far cry away from his normally harmless self. For one thing, he had two eyes instead of one, although the flicker of fear in said eyes was a slight comfort, as his gaze had held nothing but madness the last time they’d seen him like this.

Fresh’s features were contorted in an almost constant grin, like a threatening rictus. His smile was strained, tears still evident in his eyes even as he averted his gaze, trying to disappear.

Framed by the mess of jagged horns upon his head was the most peculiar and unsettling trait, a tiny, pink-hued Treeangle shard, jammed into the recesses of the shape’s skull. Said shard pulsed with a potent energy, obviously the source of the impromptu transformation.

In hindsight, Blue should’ve expected this, given the flickering, unstable nature of Fresh’s ambient glow. There was a palpable tension in the air, seemingly amplified by the being’s frighteningly sinister looks.

As they finally processed the change, Blue let out a soft, “Oh,” in bitter acknowledgement.

Fresh seemed to wilt, his catlike ears folding downward. He made an effort to tone down the glow in his eyes as he mumbled, “Yeah.”

Blue watched, silent, as the pink being slowly stepped away from the corner, still staring at the ground. He seemed antsy, obviously irritated by the excess power, not to mention the bad memories associated with New Game.

They could only imagine what Fresh was thinking, what with his current predicament.

They stepped closer, despite themselves, and whispered, “How?”

Fresh looked down at them, blinking. It took a moment for him to understand, before he groaned, holding his head with a long-suffering sigh.

Gesturing at the shard in his head with a hand, he elaborated, “It was an accident, seriously.” He chuckled bitterly. “I was just listening to some tunes, the usual, then a shard came flyin’ through the window, and BAM! Could hardly think straight, and when I came to, I was like this…”

He then growled, “Sometimes I wish the Treeangle never existed, if it’s gonna cause this much trouble.”

Blue winced.

Abruptly, Fresh stuffed his hands into his pockets, reeling. For a second, he’d almost gone off on a tangent, obviously thrown off emotionally by his current state. He faltered again, lowering his voice.

“Sorry.”

Blue shook their head, frantically waving their hands in an “X” motion. They were still too shaken up to say much, although their gestures seemed to get their point across. Frowning, the blue cube approached Fresh, staring up at him.

His eyes flickered, and his expression twitched.

“You don’t have to-?”

Abruptly, they pulled Fresh into a hug, feeling quite silly as they were only able to reach to hug his stomach. They had always been quite short compared to the pink shape, although his height boost in New Game form made them look like a child in size.

Fresh was taken aback, wincing at the contact. His mind still buzzed with frenetic power, and he hurriedly pushed Blue away, shrinking back.

“Blue! You really shouldn’t-” He was cut off as the small cube dutifully returned, this time intertwining his hand with theirs in a gentle grip. “Aren’t ya… afraid?”

They tugged him towards the way out, repeating their encouragement from earlier.

“I’m not mad. I’m not scared, either.” They increased their volume, emphasizing their last sentence. “I’m just worried about you.”

“Bee! N-no!” Fresh relented but still allowed himself to be pulled forward. “I might lose it again. Nobody even trusts me, I shouldn’t be around you…”

His friend failed to answer, and Fresh began to panic as he saw the moonlight filtering in from outside. They were nearing the exit, and soon, his twisted form, the very thing that had once caused everyone so much pain… would be unleashed upon the world.

His tone dropped into heavy distortion, and he yanked his hand away from Blue, nearly knocking them down. They stumbled to catch themselves, the other Treeangle leaf in their pocket being knocked to the ground from the inertia.

Fresh just about shrieked, “Get that away from me, Blue!” He raised his arms, his hands becoming wicked claws as his eyes shimmered, both from tears and magic. “How do you know I won’t just betray you all again?”

Blue remained silent. They bent down to pick up the triangular shard, running over it with a finger.

Fresh snarled, “You seem pretty confident for someone who’s so easily hurt.” The manic sneer on his face widened. “Why do ya insist on stayin’ so Close to Me?”

Blue twitched. Their form shook with what seemed to be barely hidden, shaky breaths, the precursor to crying. A tiny, vindictive part of Fresh felt satisfaction at that reaction, his offensive stance dropping.

He stepped back, grinning with his old trademark smirk. “You jus’ wanna prove something, huh? Wanna prove that the worst person in Paradise can be redeemed?”

Blue frowned, pausing to kick a small rock aside. Turning around slowly, they affirmed, “No.” Tears threatened to spill from their eyes, and their face was tinted with hints of an irritated pink. Nonetheless, they smiled, their tone softening.

They offered Fresh a hand again, the Treeangle shard clutched loosely in the other.

Fresh dimly realized that he could’ve just snatched the piece and fled, just to prove his point. However, the longer he stared into the smaller shape’s tear-filled eyes, the less inclined he was to harm them, and his earlier fears subsided entirely.

He hesitantly accepted their hand, looking at the ground. The erratic flickering of his glow lessened, if only slightly, and he sighed, walking with Blue out of the blighted cavern. The shine of the moon reflected in his eyes as he looked up, his smile faltering.

Ears drooping, the pink shape murmured a soft, “Why?”

Blue squeezed his hand, not quite meeting his eye as they reassured, “It’s because… I believe in you.”


End file.
